Congressman's journey to the top of the world
SARGENT'S PURCHASE — It was a mild winter day in late February when I got to join U.S. Rep. Chris Pappas (D-N.H.) for a trip to the summit of Mount Washington. At 6,288 feet, with temperatures in the high 20s, one might even say it was balmy.
A snow cat ride to the summit is a privilege, a trip that few get the chance to take. The Auto Road and summit facilities are generally closed to visitors in the winter, except for a few special trips.
But the Mount Washington Observatory invited the congressman to tour its facilities and learn more about its mission to study weather and climate, and as a member of the press, I got to tag along.
SARGENT'S PURCHASE — It was a mild winter day in late February when I got to join U.S. Rep. Chris Pappas (D-N.H.) for a trip to the summit of Mount Washington. At 6,288 feet, with temperatures in the high 20s, one might even say it was balmy.
A snow cat ride to the summit is a privilege, a trip that few get the chance to take. The Auto Road and summit facilities are generally closed to visitors in the winter, except for a few special trips.
But the Mount Washington Observatory invited the congressman to tour its facilities and learn more about its mission to study weather and climate, and as a member of the press, I got to tag along.
Like me, it was Pappas’ first trip to the summit in winter. “So it was a really great opportunity to take the snow cat up and see a little bit more about how the observatory interacts with the state of New Hampshire and the state park,” he told me.
Pappas, three staffers and I were joined by four members of the observatory: Executive Director Drew Bush, Director of Weather Operations Jay Broccolo, Buterbaugh and Trustee Gary MacDonald, plus two representatives from the state: Natural and Cultural Resources Commissioner Sarah L. Stewart and Patrick Hummel, who supervises the state park at the summit.
The state owns the summit of Mount Washington, managing it as a state park, and leases part of the Sherman Adams Building to the observatory for staff living quarters and research facilities. Like the observatory, the state park staffs the building year-round, focusing on such mundane tasks as maintaining heat and fresh water in all kinds of weather.
The summit weather observatory has been at the heart of the Obs’ research for nearly a hundred years, long predating the current Sherman Adams Building, which was constructed in 1980. The observatory was founded in 1932, and even before that, Dartmouth College and the U.S. Army Signal Service sent crews to study winter weather as early as 1870.
The Obs famously recorded the highest winds observed on the planet at 231 mph on April 12, 1934 — a record that stood until an unmanned instrument station in Barrow Island, Australia, observed a speed of 253 mph during Typhoon Olivia on April 10, 1996 (see sidebar).
Observatory members will proudly tell you, though, that the 1934 record is still the highest speed directly observed by people.
After hearing the weather report and plans for the day, checking to make sure we all had proper gear for any excursions and obeying recommendations that we hang our car keys in the garage at the base, we all climbed into the observatory’s snow cat and settled in for the trip up the Auto Road. Pappas rode in front with the driver, Transportation Coordinator Jon Powers, while the rest of us sat in a cab in the back that provided the warmth and comfort of a bus and had windows on all sides, including the roof, to enjoy the view.
Like a ski resort groomer, the Bombardier Snowcat has tracks for traveling over snow and a plow to clear the way — necessary on almost every winter trip up the 7-mile road, as winds begin blowing snow back onto the road as soon as the Cat has passed.
The trip is slow, taking about an hour and a half to reach the summit with a five-minute stop just above treeline at 4,200 feet. Along the way, the snow cat often stops and backs up, moving forward a little and backing up again, pushing the snow.
Our guides explained it is part of the Obs’ agreement with the Auto Road and others who use the summit to help keep the road clear in winter and it is important to clean snow off the edges of the road so that it remains wide for travel.
The clear skies provided great views of the mountains as we climbed to our first stop at 4,200 feet. This is the same spot where the Auto Road generally turns around for its regular blue-sky winter excursions.
Bush had warned us: “If you’re trying to take pictures and that kind of stuff out the window of the snow cat, we just ask that you try not to lean out. And don’t drop your camera because the tracks will likely run it over it.”
So that has happened, I thought, and remembered the disclaimer we had all been asked to sign, holding the Obs blameless for any calamity that befell us, from falling on ice to being scratched by a cat.
(Actually, we saw little of the summit’s cat, Nimbus, who showed up in the state park crew’s living quarters, lazing next to a comfortable chair while Stewart and Hummel explained the work of keeping the building going year-round.)
For all the disclaimers, the observatory staff do a very thorough job of keeping everyone safe and comfortable. As it happened, the only casualty that day was my hat.
During our stop at 4,200 feet, it was still close to 40 degrees and sunny. So I thought nothing of wearing my baseball cap as we left the snow cat to take in the view. However, I had barely stepped out when the wind snatched it off my head.
As I went after it, I heard behind me, “There goes another hat.”
I chased it briefly down the road as it was lofted along by the wind. But it gained distance with every step until it popped over the edge of the road and disappeared.
But I didn’t let it dampen my mood. The view was stunning, and after taking it in for a few minutes and shouting conversations over the wind, we got back aboard and continued up the mountain. Now above the shelter of trees, the wind quickly coated the windows with frost and blowing snow, obscuring the view for most of the rest of the trip to the summit.
We arrived at there at around 11:30 a.m., unloading at the door to the Sherman Adams building and being guided through its darkened and winter-mothballed public areas into the lower reaches of the building where the Obs and state park staff had their quarters, which included comfortable living rooms, kitchen and dining areas, plus sleeping quarters for the crews.
We were greeted by the three weather observers, Francis Tarasiewicz, Karl Philippoff and Tricia Hutton, who chatted with us while volunteers Laura and Doug Pickett provided cookies and coffee before we toured to the observatory’s research facilities.
We soon headed up to the research facilities, an “office” with one of the best views in the world. There was a bank of windows at one end of the room looking out over the Presidential Range, and three work stations for computers, where the observers sat, collecting readings, making forecasts and working on their own special projects.
The observers all have or are working toward master’s degrees in weather related sciences. Hutton, a summit intern, recently finished her B.S. in atmospheric science and is heading to the University of Alaska to begin her master’s when her internship is finished in May.
Tarasiewicz, a master’s candidate, is an education specialist who works on programs like “Science in the Mountains,” which brings speakers on special topics to the Observatory and the public, as well as programs to enhance children’s education.
Philippoff has a master’s degree in atmospheric science and studies extreme weather events — of which Mount Washington has no lack.
Down a side hallway, posters presented detailed information on a series of significant weather events that have been recorded on the summit. In addition to what the Obs calls “Big Wind Day,” with its 231-mph record gust, the posters show information about the highest winds recorded in summer (154 in 1996); the highest winds in the 2000s (171 in 2019); as well as microbursts, temperature flucuations, severe thunderstorms and other events.
One of the most recent record breakers (sort of, according to the scientists) was the coldest ever wind chill in U.S. history — minus 108.4 degrees Fahrenheit — reported from the summit a little over a year ago, on Feb. 4, 2023. Why do the scientists say sort of? Because wind chill is a calculation, not a measurement, that takes into account both temperature and wind speed, in this case a temperature of minus 47.2 degrees F., and winds of more than 100 mph, gusting at 128 mph.
Pappas said he remembered the day well, as it was the day he got married at the Omni Mount Washington Resort in Bretton Woods to his husband, Vann Bentley in February 2023.
“We were watching the weather for a few weeks, and we were supposed to go to the top, to the mountaintop lodge at Bretton Woods,” he said. “We couldn’t get there. We were hanging on every little data point from the forecast happening that day.”
Broccolo talked about the factors that contribute to bringing the worst weather to Mount Washington: its location in the mid-latitudes at about the 45th parallel, at the eastern edge of the North American continent; the jet stream, trade winds, the troposphere, dry air from the west meeting moist air from the tropics, particles from pollution in the Midwest.
“Right in the middle of northern and southern hemisphere is where you get your worst storms. And that’s why the trade winds are where they are. And that’s why the jet stream is because that is essentially like the door between the equator and the poles,” he said.
He also talked about the mesonet, which is being expanded through an NBRC grant. “That’s really going to allow us to introduce instrumentation to allow us to better characterize the lower atmosphere so that we can get into the dynamic processes that are happening.”
Plans also call for mesonet stations to be placed at ski areas to help resorts get a better handle on finding the right conditions for snowmaking. There are already instruments on Cranmore Mountain in North Conway and Cannon Mountain in Franconia.
Following the tour of the observatory, we headed outside for one of highlights of the trip, climbing one at a time up the observation tower to the highest point of the highest point in New England, where the view was incredible but was overpowered by the sheer force of facing directly into those 35-mph winds (and a few higher gusts).
Soon, we were ready to head back inside for lunch, and a tour of state park facilities.
The top 16 acres of the mountain make up Mount Washington State Park and Hummel said, “This building the other buildings up here, the radio towers, all of that is within the scope of the state parks.
“In the wintertime, we run four-day shifts on paper, sometimes they become five days and it becomes six days because of the challenges with transportation, so all of us who put extra time in, it’s part of the gig,” he said.
In addition to making sure the water, communications heat and electrical systems keep running, park staff also prepare areas for reopening to the public in summer.
“As soon as the doors open up, everyone who lands up there becomes a guest of the state park,” Hummel said. “Between the road and the Cog (Railway) and hikers, they land at our front door, and then they’re ours until they leave.”
“It’s a tremendous responsibility. We see about 350,000 people in a five month period over the summer, from mid-May to mid-October,” he said. “If it’s not weather-related it’s the state park’s responsibility, essentially.”
After one more quick trip outside to get pictures at the summit sign, we said goodbye to our hosts and reboarded the snow cat to head back down the mountain, below the wind,
In conclusion, if you are lucky enough to be offered a trip to the summit in winter with the Mount Washington Observatory, I can’t recommend it highly enough. And if you happen to see a Mountain Meisters 2015 ball cap, you now know where to return it.